


two halves

by orthogonals



Category: The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, POV Achilles (Song of Achilles), Trojan War, before everything with agamemnon went down, i tried writing like MM idk if it worked, kind of a fix it I guess, makes events a bit easier to bear?, prob like 7-8 years in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 15:51:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20212336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orthogonals/pseuds/orthogonals
Summary: I felt something swell inside me, a feeling unnamed. The dim blood and unceasing battle of the fields of Troy could not reach us here. Our fingers brushed in the thickets of grass, and only the hum of the forest stretched between us. I think moments like this are what keep me sane.---A cute moment between Achilles and Patroclus before everything goes down.





	two halves

**Author's Note:**

> I tried imitating MM's style but I'm definitely way less suited for it.

We sat by the lake. The wet grass flicked droplets of dew at my feet, and the newly woken sun beat down on us softly from above. I gazed at Patroclus from the corner of my eye. Rustling leaves scattered the sunshine to a thousand rays, pinpricks of light that danced on the rich brown of his cheeks. His eyes were closed, his face tilted forward. The dark lashes fringing his eyelids gleamed as if dipped in oil.

I felt something swell inside me, a feeling unnamed. The dim blood and unceasing battle of the fields of Troy could not reach us here. Our fingers brushed in the thickets of grass, and only the hum of the forest stretched between us. I think moments like this are what keep me sane.

His tunic hung loose off broad shoulders, slipping in the breeze. I traced the exposed panes of his back with a long glance, and blood pulsed in my ears like the swish of wine in a krater. That expanse of flat muscle was as familiar to me as the breath in my body, but my desire to touch and to taste never ceased.

We came to Troy so that all men might know the _Aristos Achaion_. We came to Troy, and we built our lives warily around the space filled by my foretold death. But I cannot imagine the life of a shade. I cannot imagine Elysium without this. Without him.

Hector’s death still lingered in the haunts of my dreams. The image was always the same: I stand before him in a grove. The laurel twists us in like shadows of the night. Cold fury and piercing agony wrestle inside me as waves crashing on rock, the anguish so fierce that a dull ache remains in the morning.

I am ruthless as the spear flies, its glinting tip carving a path to Hector’s throat. He falls.

Hector is dead, and I know my death will follow, as swift and sure as the course of a river. I cannot feel anything other than relief.

I did not tell Patroclus of these things. We did not have time enough to worry.

Patroclus sighed from beside me, a soft sound like birdsong. He bumped his knee into mine.

Swept by a sudden mischief, I pushed myself over, wrestling him into the slippery dew. His eyes flickered open, catching the dance of the light. A smile played sweetly on his mouth. He drew me in close and brushed his lips against mine. The wash of his scent, dark earth and apples, squeezed my breath somewhere high.

“Patroclus,” I said.

“Achilles,” he replied, his voice coloring my name like a melody. He smiled, crinkling the corners of his eyes. Unruly curls framed his face, his body a lean line beneath mine.

The feeling seized me again, filled me until I thought to burst. I gave a sly grin and lunged forward. Patroclus yelped and squirmed as I pressed kisses to his forehead, his nose, his cheeks. The air tinkled with his laughter.

Our foreheads rested together, and his thumb rose to brush my face.

“Whatever may happen,” I begun, and my voice cracked. I took a shallow breath. “Promise that we shall always be together.”

That we would find each other, in life and in death.

Something solemn swam in his gaze. He tipped his head up and whispered his words like a secret.

“We cannot be kept apart, for we are two halves of a whole. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Catch up with me on [tumblr](http://orthogonals.tumblr.com)!


End file.
